


Tears in the Night filling into the River of Bro

by acrylicDynamo, Icebound



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Dave Strider - Freeform, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Begging, Blood and Gore, Child Abuse, Cock & Ball Torture, Decapitation, Diarrhea, Diarrhea cum, Discussion of Abortion, Dom/sub, Dominant Dave Strider, Fat Dave Strider, M/M, Monkey kink, Monkey sounds, Necrophilia, Omega Bro, Pedophilia, Pegging, Pregnancy, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Role Reversal, Screaming, Submissive Bro Strider, Unplanned Pregnancy, obesity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrylicDynamo/pseuds/acrylicDynamo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icebound/pseuds/Icebound
Summary: bro





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Dave Strider and the last thing you expected to hear coming from your Bro’s room was the desperate and needy whimpers. You run in, as fast as your stomach flab will take you, feeling your man boobs jiggle up and down. You reach the door. Your newly presented alpha nose picks up on a sweet and heady scent drifting out from the cracks of the door, and you instantly recognize it as the smell of an omega in heat. You feel a sudden surge of horniness.

“Come here you big hunk come rub my man boobs.” You say to Bro. 

“No-no Dave!” Bro tells you. 

But you’re too far into your horny fantasy. “First you’re gonna fondle my man boobs and then I’m gonna paint your fat cock and then I’m gonna lick the paint off and then I’m gonna stick a water bottle up your whorish asshole and watch you bleed.”

Bro whines. “No Dave! Oh Dave no!”   
“Why not?” You ask, your 4 chins flaring in anger. You need Bro’s weewee. You don’t want Bro’s weewee you need it. 

You jump on top of him, and weighing 350 pounds more than he does you are more than able to hold him down. You start to bite his bottom lip.

“Dave, stop.” Bro commands, but you keep biting. 

“You don’t have the power anymore Bro. You’re weak and I can feel it.” 

That night you took him hard, rough and commanding, leaving bite marks and bruises all up and down Bro’s frame.

…..

Bro knew he was pregnant. He knew from the moment he had woken up the next day and vomited into the toilet. But who was the father? It was his own damn fault for being such a slut. The father was either Dad Egbert, Dirk’s Bro or Dave himself. 

Bro couldn’t help but let out the small whine that stemmed from the feeling of being a pregnant omega without an alpha for protection. The familiar self loathing snaked itself to the forefront of Bro’s mind. He loathed being viewed as a weak, needy omega that needed nothing more than an alpha and a cock to satisfy him.

He resolved not to tell anyone.

This worked only for a short while.

Bro’s scent started to morph into the smell of pregnancy. He took scent suppressors for a couple days, but quit quickly after reading online that suppressors could hurt the developing baby. He avoided Dave like the plague, which of course didn’t take much effort anyway; it’s not like Bro interacted with Dave before the pregnancy. 

It was only a matter of time though. And that time came when Bro was lounging on the futon in front of the TV, playing video games when Dave wasn’t home- out with Egbert’s kid, or something of the sort.  
…..

You reach the top steps on the staircase to your apartment. Your thick legs drag on the floor as bulging beads of sweat rolled down your voluptuous back. 

You just got back from another uneventful visit to John’s house, which is usually fun whenever he isn’t making fun of your weight, but you couldn’t keep your mind off Bro. 

As you reach the door to you and Bro’s apartment, apprehension and worry flood through you and you hesitate from reaching for the doorknob.

That night, where you learned that Bro was an omega of all things, and you had mated with him while he was in heat, took place three weeks ago. Since then you’ve barely even caught a whiff of Bro, even to strife. The sudden lack of attention and interaction was worrisome and anxiety inducing. You would do anything for just a snippet of Bro’s attention at this point.

That’s why, when you swing open the door and see Bro lounging on the futon, you move excitedly and hurry as fast as your fat fucking chicken legs can carry you towards him. You make to trap him in conversation before he can run away.

“Hey bro, haven’t seen you around since our little slice of heaven.” You say, wiggling your eyebrows over your shades. As soon as you get close though, you notice the change in Bro’s scent. It’s now sweeter and has a milky tinge- the distinct smell of a pregnant omega.

Letting out a gasp, you exclaim, “PLEASE DON’T SAY I’M THE FATHER!”, without thinking. You feel a twinge of guilt as Bro lowers his head ashamedly, and shifts uncomfortably on his seat.

“I don’t know who the father is.” Bro admits.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me? Did you plan on avoiding me forever? You should’ve told me outright.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you reacting badly. It’s no business of yours.”

“Bullshit! I’m the one who mated with you in your last heat, I’m most likely the father. I should have a say.” Dave growled loudly and bared his teeth.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Bro let out a whimper and moved to expose his neck submissively to Dave.

Dave tossed his head, his fat rippling in deep waves to follow the motion. “Well, I don’t want it.” 

“What? Okay. I mean, it’s not like I planned for you to help in the first place, I-”

“No, you’re interpreting me wrong. It shouldn’t be here. As the father, I demand you find a way to get rid of it… dispose of it.”

“You can’t be serious. You want me to get an abortion?”


	2. Chapter 2

“What the fuck are you talking about Dave?!?” Broderick was currently tied down from the bedpost, ropes winding down his body and severely limiting his movement. He thrashed about, trying to escape as Dave watched him like a predatory hawk from above. 

“Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to crush your balls. After all these years of your weird torture, I think it's your turn, Broderick.”

Broderick quickly started to slightly tremble from the irritated note in Dave's voice. He wasn't used to this, and his fucking balls were about to get crushed under his little brothers foot. This would be especially painful because Dave was wearing black leather boots with heels.

Broderick’s mouth was forced open, fingers thrusting in. No small amount of drool escaped his mouth as he whimpered and sucked on Dave's fingers, then he realized what Dave was holding and ready to insert into his mouth. 

“You're fucking gagging m-mphhhhh!” Broderick squealed out. He grabbed a tangerine orange blindfold, and tied it over Broderick’s eyes, rendering him almost completely unable to see. Dave peered down darkly at the sight of Broderick tied down, thrashing and screaming, ready to get his nuts crushed. 

Dave slammed his foot directly onto Broderick's balls, with no foreplay whatsoever. 

“MMPHHHHHHH!! MMMP!” Broderick screamed through the gag, which couldn't even muffle his loud screams for mercy. Dave brought the foot down again onto his balls, stomping against them with the ambiance of Broderick's feral screams. This time however, he smashed the balls and rubbed his foot on them.

Streaks of tears cover Broderick's face, loud sobs emit from Broderick that are muffled by the gag. Dave is completely hard. He rubs himself through his pink princess lingerie, a dollop of precum soaking his panties. 

Dave pauses the ball torture for a moment to admire his work, the balls not bleeding yet, but severely bruised with veins popping out. He leans over, prodding at Broderick’s asshole. “Please, STOP!” Broderick wants to scream, but it comes out unrecognizable. It's not like Dave would listen anyways, he really fucked this kid up. 

Almost like a miracle, Dave did stop. Only however, to torture him another way. 

A large, orange smuppet was prodding at his asshole. 

And it was going to go straight into his asshole completely dry. 

Now Broderick was thrashing again, screaming and moaning loudly, unable to stop. The lack of control was getting to him, and Dave loved every second. The smuppet inched its way up his ass, Dave's finger accompanying it, rubbing his asshole to try and get it to loosen up. 

“Keep clenching your ass like that Broderick, and i'll have to just shove all 9 inches of this bad boy straight into your asshole with no foreplay.” Broderick full-body shivered at that, terrified, but a deep part of him liked the idea. The tables had been turned while he was completely unaware. His little brother was torturing him.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave shifted against the cushions of the futon, fumbling with the controller in his hand. It was nighttime, and the only light came from the illuminating glow of the TV screen, which reflected against his shades. He’d been playing the same shitty skating game for hours; meanlessly glitching it for fun. He was dressed only in his boxers due to the sweltering Texas heat, unrelenting even during the night.

Tongue peeking slightly out of his lips due to concentration, Dave was just about to get the game to freeze when the front door to the apartment slammed open. The loud sound was in such contrast to the previous silence that Dave’s whole body jerked with surprise he before forced himself to relax. He kept his face neutral as he slung his arm over the back of the couch and turned to face Bro.

Bro stood in the doorway with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. His face was still as stoic and unreadable as ever, despite being inebriated, and his eyes were covered by his pointed shades. It would be impossible to tell he was drunk if not for the way his eyebrows ticked down slightly.

“Sup, Bro.” Dave said, raising one eyebrow slightly at how much liquid was absent from the bottle in his brother’s hand.

An unreadable expression flashed across Bro’s face before he flashstepped right in front of the futon. Dave had to physically stop himself from flinching back as he could smell the alcohol on Bro’s breath. 

“You’re up late.” 

“Yeah man, it’s no big deal I was just-”

“I expected you to be asleep.”

Bro leaned forward and braced his arms against the couch on each side of Dave’s head, effectively caging him in. His breath gusted against Dave’s lips as he spoke.

“Look at you, layed out all pretty and staying up just for me…”

Cold fear settled through Dave, turning his veins to ice as Bro went around to nip at Dave’s ear.

“It’s almost like you’re begging for this.”

Bro’s teeth moved from his ear and down to his neck, light feather kisses planted down the stretch of his throat. Once he reached the collar bone, he bit down suddenly; not enough to draw blood, but enough to cause Dave to let out an involuntary gasp of pain.

He could feel Bro’s lips quirk upwards slightly into a smirk as he sucked a hickey into the bite mark, and he felt himself begin to slip into routine.

A fog settled itself over Dave’s brain, a lapse of consciousness and comprehension in his mind. Everything felt numb, like he was watching a movie; detached from reality. He barely moved when Bro’s hands began to roam, up to pinch at his nipples before moving lower to slip underneath his waistband.

He only tilted his hips up to allow Bro to slip his only article of clothing off.

He only blinked slowly, owlishly, as Bro shucked off his own clothes in a few swift movements.

He only braced himself for the pain that was soon to come, Bro rarely did this so Dave felt pleasure too, instead taking Dave quickly and selfishly.

He only squeezed his eyes shut in pain as Bro slowly slid in completely dry, right up to the hilt.

He only repeated a mantra of Just get it over with, it’ll be over soon, as Bro quickened to a back breaking pace of thrusting.

He couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears from pouring out of his eyes.

………..

It wasn’t over soon. 

Instead of just finishing and heading to his own room, Bro pulled out and stared down at Dave’s prone and disengaged body laying lax on the couch. He grabbed the whiskey bottle, which he had left on the ground in front of the couch, and chugged the last of it, before slamming it over Dave’s shoulder.

Dave jolted back to life, searing pain racing up his arm. He let out a muffled cry and went up to grab his shoulder, only to pull his hand back at the feeling of glass in his skin. He looked up to stare at Bro in confusion and betrayal- he never chose both violence or sex in one night. It was either one or the other.

“I bet you loved that. Disgusting faggots like you deserve to be broken.”

“W-Wh,” Dave sputtered, not quite back to reality yet, knowing only of confusion and pain. “What?”

“You heard me. Little twinks like you who only know how to beg for dick are going to hell.” His voice was flat, monotone as he spoke.

Dave muttered a short retort underneath his breath, grumbled and inaudible.  
Quick anger danced across Bro’s face, and he wrenched Dave up off the couch by the back of his neck and flash-stepped to slam his head into the nearby wall. 

“What did you say, brat?”

Dave’s vision temporarily blackened and for just a sweet, fleeting moment he thought maybe he was knocked unconscious so he could escape this mess. His hope was for not, as he came to and his vision swam. He jerked to the side, crumbling out of Bro’s grip and hunching over to empty his stomach onto the floor.

Once he was finished, Bro kicked his side and caused him to fall face first into his own vomit.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“N-nothing, I didn’t say anything.” Dave’s voice was barely above a whisper, wavering and chopped.

Bro stomped on Dave’s spine, flattening him to the floor, before shoving his shoe onto Dave’s face, moving it around so that Dave’s face smeared in the puke. 

Disgust rolled through Dave’s stomach and he retched, but nothing came out. 

Bro moved his shoe from Dave’s face, pulling it back. For a split second a tiny burst of hope flitted through Dave, small and fleeting. His bubble was shattered when Bro’s foot rammed through his ribcage. A loud crack was audible and Dave sputtered, coughing up chunks of blood, pain clouding his thoughts.

“Pitiful.” Bro said, staring down at Dave without emotion. He gave Dave one last kick to the jaw before flash-stepping away onto the futon. Nearly immediately he fell into an inebriated slumber.

It took Dave a very long time, maybe hours, to be able to begin to pick himself off the floor. His main motivation was the rancid smell emitting from his emptied stomach contents. Staggering, and careful not to make noise as to not wake up his brother, he made his way to the bathroom. 

The trek to the bathroom felt like it stretched for long, pain laden miles, and once he made it Dave collapsed onto the tile floor, face flat. He turned himself over to inspect his wounds. Unfortunately, other than the glass shards jutting out of his skin, most of the damage was internal. He idly wondered how he was going to fix his apparent broken ribs, his mind still fogged from pain and hysteria. 

Not wanting to be covered in his own filth any longer, he turned on the shower nozzle, and didn’t even wait for the water to heat up before jumping in. He scrubbed his skin raw, wanting to remove any trace of vomit off his body, and wanting to scrape all remnants of Bro off him.

Once finished, he stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed a pair of tweezers from under the sink, and sat down on the toilet. He began to gingerly pull the shards of glass out of his skin, hissing quietly through his teeth. One by one, it took a painstakingly long time to extract and individually bandage the cuts.

Once finished, he dropped the glass into the trash can next to the toilet and started towards his bedroom. He staggered with each step, clutching his side where Bro had kicked him. He made it to his room and slipped on a t shirt and jeans.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Dave stared at the katanas perched on his wall above his turntables. He stared at them for God knows how long. He stared at them long enough that numbness and the cloudiness that was fogging his mind dissipated. Creeping into its place was cold, blind rage fueled by pain and confusion. 

He could remember thinking over and over again that He just wanted this all to be over.

He sat, staring at those katanas, until the loathing he harbored for his brother boiled over any rational thinking. He loathed the way his brother treated him. He loathed that that no matter what he did, it was never enough. He loathed that he had to constantly watch his back. He loathed that there were cameras recording everything he did. He loathed that he had to do everything, he loathed that he had to learn the proper way to use a fridge from online, he loathed every single thing about his upbringing.

Consumed by anger, he didn’t even realize until he had grabbed a katana off his wall and walked into the main room until he was standing next to futon, looking down at Bro’s sleeping face, sword drawn in offensive position.

Staring down at his brother’s face, he still was not comprehending what he was about to do, but he hesitated anyway. He glanced up and saw where the scene had occured before, blood, alcohol, and vomit forming a Dave shaped splatter on the floor, and the rage filled him once more.

Letting out a low growl, the similar detest filled him and in a split second he arced the sword and brought it down to Bro’s throat, cutting his head off, far from cleanly. Blood soaked the futon.

The same futon that just earlier, Bro had pinned him down on and taken him mercilessly. 

Cold fury and apathy settled deep into Dave’s bones, and he wanted nothing more than to have to have Bro go through all the shit he put Dave through.

He wanted Bro to see what it was like to be Dave.

Climbing on top of Bro, he remembered each individual scar his brother gave him. Each little slight, each little invasion of privacy, each and every act of neglect. He couldn’t do this to Bro, no, it was too late for that- but he could do the next best thing.

Dave quickly shucked off his pants and reached down to start taking off Bro’s. The deadweight of his body made it difficult to slide the elder Strider’s jeans off, but Dave managed. Both the Striders always went commando, Bro always said underwear was for faggots. 

Beginning to get hard from the idea of what he was about to do, Dave spat on his hand before beginning to stroke down his length. He snaked his other hand up underneath his shirt, pinching at one of his nipples. He timed a pinch with a stroke of his cock and let out a gasp that dragged into a low moan. Paying special attention to where the head and the shaft meet, he worked himself to full erectness.

He drew his hand out of his shirt and reached towards Bro’s severed neck, drenching his hand in blood before bringing it back down to coat his dick in it.

After getting more blood, he spread Bro’s exposed asscheeks and slipped two bloodied fingers into his hole and began scissoring, stretching him out. It was obvious Bro didn’t bottom often.

Getting impatient, Dave withdrew his fingers, and after slathering more blood on, lined his head up with Bro’s ass. He pushed in slowly, hilting himself completely. 

“Ah, god Bro, y-you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as he began shallow thrusts. Absentmindedly he noticed with slight annoyance that Bro’s body was going cold. His pace quickened in anger.

Soon Dave was going as fast as he could, ramming into Bro with as much power as he could muster. Small grunts punctuated each movement. He could feel the familiar coil of tension that meant he was close.

He muffled a cry as he came by biting down hard on Bro’s shoulder, blood flooding his mouth from the wound on his knack. He collapsed on top of Bro’s body.

After getting over the post coital relaxation, Dave pulled out of Bro. He stared down at what he’d done- his brother’s dead body, severed at the neck, completely nude from the waist down and obviously fucked. He blinked twice, logic coming back to him, and scrambled away from the body.

His breath came in quick spurts as panic overtook him, the full weight of what he’d done collapsing onto him all at once. Tears began to stream down his face as he began full on sobbing, curled up on the edge of the futon opposite from his own brother’s dead body.

Once he was all sobbed out, he sat there, shaking, forcing himself to rationalize and pull himself together. Dave sat up and stared down at his blood coated hands, contemplating what he’d done. Self hatred had seized his mind and wasn’t giving it back. He thought of all the things that, since he killed Bro, Bro would never be able to do. 

Instead of being happy that his abuser was dead, Dave was sorrowful that now Bro would never have the chance to redeem himself. Dave would never have a guardian, or anyone real who loved him. There was no hope for him. 

Dreadful resolve filled him and he stood up, pulled his pants back on, and made his way to the phone in the kitchen. He dialed 911 and told them his address, then hung up. He trudged to his room and sat down at his computer, waiting for the police to arrive.

He decided to message his friends one last time for a long while.


	4. Chapter 4

Your name is Dave Strider and this is the last place you expected your night to lead. You have your back against the headrest of your bed, using one of your arms to slowly stroke your long, inflamed cock. Your breath comes out in short puffs as you quicken your pace, and a bead of dark brown diarrhea cum starts to form at your head. 

As you have to use your entire arms length to stroke your engorged cock, the dark brown smudge of cum beads and drips down the length of your entire dick. Being a natural sub, you call for Bro while trying to jerk your 8 foot schlong off. What are you doing with your life?  
===> Dave: Screech like a monkey and throw your cum at the wall.

You give your head a slight shake. What the hell? You would never do something so depraved. You voice the unusual thought that crossed your mind, jokingly telling it to Bro, who was hovering in the doorway with perfect posture. However, he seems to like what he hears, and encourages you to do it with a small nod. He lets out low praises as you squeeze your cock unrelentingly, coaxing a bit more of the cum out, before using your hand to flick the chunky liquid into the wall. You could hear the tease in your brother’s voice as he reminds you that you’re missing a step. Burning with shame and humiliation, you feel your lips curve around the first sounds of ‘hoo hoo ha ha’ as you start to do your best monkey impression, eager to please your dom. He continues to shower you with condescending praise as you begin to go full out, flinging the shit cum onto the wall while making needy, desperate monkey sounds. You feel yourself nearing the edge, and your breath hitches. What do you do!

Cheeks flaming a fiery red like the depths of hell, your monkey sounds increase in volume, not caring who hears. You belong to your Bro, unleashing your inner Omega for only his eyes to see. Your brown, chunky cum increases in volume, dripping a steady waterfall from your cock. "Tsk tsk tsk...Naughty boy Dave..." Teased Bro, watching his omega slowly lose himself in monkey noises. Unable to fully jerk yourself off, your vocal chords strain to create manly-but still submissive- ape grunts. You sound like a feral animal, and you act like one too, flinging your crusty, brown cum at your walls.


	5. Chapter 5

Karkat woke up to screaming.

He jolted awake in bed and frantically looked to the side to see if Dave was still slumbering beside him. However, there was only a Dave shaped dent where he had been sleeping earlier, and no Dave in sight.

Karkat panicked. He whipped out of bed, throwing his covers off, and ran to try and find the source of the sound, sprinting towards the bathroom in their small apartment. 

He slammed open the door to find Dave sitting in the bathtub, groaning. He rushed over to Dave, sliding his hand behind Dave’s back, and observed him. Dave was in the bathtub, his legs spread, completely naked. His exposed small, pink worm-like dick, was completely flaccid. A pool of blood was collecting bellow him, sliding down into the drain. His asshole was bloodied, ripping and stretching around a large, round object. His stomach was swollen, bulbous and bearing the appearance of pregnancy, blue veins popping out of the pale, thin skin. 

Karkat blanched at his appearance, worry flooding over him. Dave was screaming and groaning in between pants, his body trying to push out the objects.

“W-what’s going on, Dave?” Karkat asked, his voice shaky from fear and scratchy from sleep. That, and yelling all of the goddamn time. 

Dave couldn't reply, his mind fogged with pain, as his body did everything it could to reject the objects lodged up his rectum. His groans of pain increased in volume as his ass stretched around diameter of the sphere. After that, it popped out easily, and Karkat was able to see what it was.

Too scared to pick it up, he just stared. The object was clear but red tinted, jelly like, and surrounded by a thin membrane to keep it together. Inside was a wriggling and moving grub, its features a mixture of human and troll.

“What the fuck?!” Karkat yelled, a banshee from hell. Were these his babies?!

Dave barely had a moment to breathe before another egg was coming. He let out another guttural screech, and his body heaved entirely, trying to push out the offspring, and his bladder couldn’t take anymore. He pissed all over himself, and some splashed onto Karkat too, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The pain was too much.

The first egg must’ve stretched his asshole out, because the second came out considerably quicker, rubbing against his painful, raw edges. 

The next thing that came out, however, was not an egg. His body was pushing out everything, and the next thing to come out of his abused hole was fat logs of shit. They were a rich brown with a soft, barely solid consistency and small spots of green discoloration. The smell permeated through the air and Karkat couldn't help but gag. 

Seeming as though that was the last egg, Dave hurriedly tried to stand on his feet so that he wouldn’t wallow in his own feces. Naturally being a clumsy whore, and overestimating his strength, he his shaking legs collapsed beneath him when he attempted to stand. 

He fell down, face flat in shit and his torso crushing his and Karkat’s children.

The eggs cracked and popped, the fluid from them draining.

“Okay, what the actual fuck just happened.” Karkat said, confused, angry, and slightly despaired at the sight of his dead children.

**Author's Note:**

> alvin and the chipmunks


End file.
